You know how fantasy races/aliens are built around a common idea (dwarves have wealth, vulcans don't show emotion, klingons are violent, etc)... Finland sounds like that, but the thing you center your entire society around is going to the sauna...
I was gonna say they’re not as big of a deal as some other things, but then I started thinking about it and yeah, you’re right…..
Here’s a map of every public sauna in Finland:
Then there are all of the private saunas which are literally everywhere - most houses have their own and even some apartments like mine have a small one. If you don’t have a personal sauna there’s usually at least a shared one with others in the same building complex. And of course summer cottages, which there are also a dickload of in finland, have saunas.
The sauna/person ratio is about 1:2
you could be in the middle of fucking woods and still run into scouts with a portable tent sauna. they’re just fucking everywhere
Cas reads the label and turns the tape over in his hands. “I don’t have a cassette player,” he concludes as he holds the cassette back out to Dean.
Dean gets up from the kitchen table and pushes it back toward Cas until it’s right up against his chest. “I’ve been in that truck. There’s a cassette player.”
“Well, I don’t know how to–”
“Cas,” Dean says, leveling him with a glare. “Take the damn tape.”
Cas flips it over in his hands once again, looking down at it studiously. When he looks back up to thank Dean, he finds himself alone. He looks around the kitchen, but Dean is gone.
He tucks the cassette into the inner pocket of his coat and pats it once to feel the solid weight against his chest.
“What’s that?” Sam asks jovially as he joins Cas in the library.
Cas tucks the cassette away quickly and clears his throat. “Dean gave it to me. It’s a cassette.”
Sam looks up quickly from his computer, a shocked and amused expression on his face. “A cassette? He gave you a cassette?”
Castiel squints at him. “Yes?”
Sam looks down at his keyboard, huffs a short laugh, straightens up a bit in his seat. “What’s on it?”
“It says his top 13 Led Zeppelin traxx, ‘tracks’ with two x’s,” Cas recites from memory.
“You haven’t listened to it yet?”
“I…no, I haven’t.”
Sam nods as he says, “Well, uh, you should. Dean doesn’t just–he doesn’t even let anybody touch his tapes, man. That’s…a really big deal that he gave you one.”
Cas presses his hand to his chest. “I’m not sure he meant for it to be a big deal.”
“Yeah, well.” Sam shrugs. “Listen to it, at least.”
Cas is sitting in his truck, holding the tape in his hand, staring at the radio and wondering where to put the damn thing.
The passenger door creaks open and shuts. Castiel doesn’t look over.
“Oh fuck, I was wrong,” Dean says with a small laugh. “There’s no cassette player in here. C’mon.” He doesn’t wait before getting right back out and heading over to where the Impala is parked on the other end of the garage.
After a moment, Cas follows him. He hesitantly gets in on the passenger side and hands the tape over to Dean.
A couple of seconds of silence pass before the music quietly pours through the Impala’s speakers. Dean leans his head back against the seat and puts his arm up on the backrest of the bench. His fingertips brush lightly against Cas’ shoulder.
Cas can’t quite hear all the lyrics, but he knows it’s something about being lonely and missing someone and he wants to ask Dean when he made this tape, who he had in mind when he made this tape, who this was really meant for, but the words get stuck in his throat.
As the music washes over him, he closes his eyes and leans his head back as well. After a minute, a hand brushes through his hair and Dean begins to hum.
Cas opens his eyes and looks over, and Dean’s head lolls to the side as he gives him a lazy grin.
“You like it?” Dean asks, his hand still carding through Cas’ hair.
Cas prefers his own music, but maybe he could get used to this as well. “I like it,” he concedes.
“Good,” Dean replies, his head falling back against the seat once more. “I could sit here all day.”
Cas scoots a little bit closer to the driver’s side. “I could, too.”
what are your thoughts on judas? why do you love him so much?
The myth of Judas is like every story in the Bible: it depends on how you read it.
There’s the first story, the one everyone knows, in which Jesus is divine and Judas is the betrayer and he is condemned for it. But what isn’t said is that there needs to be a betrayal; that the story hinges on it; the passion can’t play without it. And so the question becomes: if it’s all destined, if it’s fate, is Judas culpable? Was he lead to the betrayal - did he ever even have a choice? The question of Judas is the question of free will. This is why Jesus loves him most, keeps him close, never hates him - he’s part of the godhead. He knows that he’s not the only one who is sacrificed for salvation. And doesn’t Judas get the worst of it - reviled for all eternity, hated by all, written down in the book as The Betrayer? He doesn’t even get a legacy. He doesn’t get worshipped; he doesn’t even get to be forgotten. For someone to rise up, to ascend, someone else has to take the fall, and that’s exactly what Judas did.
The second story is the historical one, the one that says Jesus was just a man, and that he and Judas knew exactly what the fuck they were doing. In this story Jesus is the leader and Judas is his right hand, his zealot, the one who believes that the cause, the salvation of his people, is more important than anything else, more than anything Jesus might want, more important than any human bonds, any love or dedication. They’ve read the book. They know the stories. They know that the only way to make their revolution last is for Jesus to become a martyr. They make the myth because they are just men and the story, the story will last far beyond them. The story lasts forever.
And so we come to the Gethsemane, only it’s under different lighting. There’s this idea, somehow, that Jesus is the innocent, that the betrayal is a blow - but he knows what’s coming. In every version, he always knows. And that changes things, it complicates things. It changes the two of them from good and evil, profane and divine, into what they were and what it was - two men giving up their lives in the hope that they could bring hope to all the people who came after them. The hero and the villain because they created themselves that way.
I’m partial to the second story - because it’s messier, it’s more devastating, it’s more real to me. It’s a story about loving something so hard you can’t live without it and giving it up only for something even greater, a higher cause - and becoming unable to look at yourself in the mirror afterwards. That’s the thing about Judas - he wants too much, feels too much. And what’s more human than that? He is, all at once, the purest disciple, and the hardest; the most faithful, and the least; the one who loved Jesus and the cause enough to betray them, and sacrifice his own soul in the doing. He is the best of us and the worst of us, all at once, and what that makes him above all is human, in a way Christ specifically is not, in the messy and fallible way that we all are. The church wasn’t built on a rock; it was built on a kiss.